Just One More
by scullyseviltwin
Summary: Post-Grave Danger; "The pads of her fingers were soft and warm on his cheeks and he worked quickly to catalogue the single emotions and sensations that she was serving to arise within him." GSR


**_Post Grave Danger... not my best by far... but eh. Needed to be written or I woulda EXPLOOOODED! Thanks Laur for the beta._**

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The lab had never seemed so warm, never so warm as it was on that night. Lab techs were hugging receptionists; Bobby was on the verge of tears as he spoke with Hodges.

When Sara had returned to the lab in a state of near catatonia, thrilled for the rescue, frightened and shaken by the entire ordeal. She stopped at the front desk for a moment, grabbing some of her papers, listening to Judy recount her long-standing crush for Nick and hearing Archie recount the time that he and Nick had gotten so drunk that they'd both passed out on Archie's front steps.

Sara smiled and recollected nights with Nick and Warrick at some anonymous bars. Nights sitting in his SUV, just talking; talking about Grissom, about his girlfriend at the time, about life and about CSI.

It was too much for her to handle at the moment, so she offered the both of them a weak smile and retreated down the quiet halls of CSI. Even as she walked, the walls seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, everyone wearing smiles, but still toiling over microscopes and bullet fragments. Everything was the same; how could everything be the same.

Sara kept her head down as she shuffled her way to the layout room. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Grissom seated at his desk, fingers lingering over the scratches on his forehead. She wondered if he was reliving the explosion like she had relived the explosion of the DNA lab...

What had he been thinking of when it had happened? She had been thinking of him in that split second, thinking of all the words she doubted she'd ever say. But Sara Sidle had boxed those demons long ago and sent them far, far away. How long would it take Gil Grissom to get the image of the fire and the destruction out of his head?

Bone weary and confused as hell, she walked towards the office, melancholy and joy both preceding her. Of course, he didn't hear her when she entered, and she took that brief reprieve to study his face. Placid but fractured. "Griss?"

His eyes snapped up to attention, taking a moment to focus on her face.

"Sara," he responded, dutifully.

She placed some of the papers down on his desk but didn't sit. "I, I wanted to talk."

He swallowed, nodded and dropped his eyes, pretending like he had been caught in the middle of something. "Good, uh, excellent work tonight, really-"

"Griss?" Sara looked at him with pleading eyes and he swallowed again and regarded her nervously.

"Yeah, I was just going home, so..." Grissom stood and began picking up random papers and put them in his briefcase. She watched him fumble around his desk and stepped forward slowly, not alerting him to her closeness. Again, she stopped and waited for him to realize she was in front of him; he didn't.

'No, I need to feel alive. I need to know he's alive, too.' So Sara stepped forward and touched his face gently. Grissom dropped the papers in his hands and looked up to her; she stepped closer. Sara knew in her dreams that morning she would see stars in his eyes, and feel the earth move, because she always did. She'd spend the rest of her life justifying her love for him, her unending quest for his soul. Neverending; if she ever fell to sleep that evening, she'd remember that Nick was alive and that Gil Grissom's soul was akin to infinity.

She had one hand on either side of his face and could tell that he was shaking. "I just really wanted to say," she began, tears gathering at her lower lids, threatening to spill. "What I didn't get a chance to say before..."

Grissom licked his lips and his breathing sped up, rushing out of him in short bursts.

"When, I uh..." Sara dropped her head for a moment, but brushed her thumbs over his cheeks. Her thoughts were sticky, doughy as she tried to pull them apart, rending them coherent. Words, so many of them, and she wanted to say them all but there was no time. There wasn't enough room in her heart to let them flow from her head.

The pads of her fingers were soft and warm on his cheeks and he worked quickly to catalogue the single emotions and sensations that she was serving to arise within him. Even as he had worked the case that evening he'd managed to project the entire situation onto other people; what if it had been Catherine in that box? Or Warrick for that matter? Or what, god forbid, if it had been Sara.

As controlled a person as he was, he knew that he wouldn't have been able to keep himself calm. It simply wouldn't have happened. Denial was an easy thing to cope with, but not knowing if you'd ever see that one person you've been denying again, well, that surely left unfinished business. Whether it be love or hate, wherever denial was present, unfinished business was lurking in the wings. Whether he loved her or didn't, there were so many things he needed to tell her, wanted to tell her.

Sara cleared her throat and glanced up at him, a small smile tickling her lips. "When we got the call, about the bomb and the body and..." She paused, swallowing down what he could only assume was the lump in her throat. "And well, you, I meant to... at the time and we were all so deep."

Grissom's voice was deep and sympathetic when he spoke, "Sara, spit it out."

"I'm just really glad that you're, you know, all right." She frowned a little, but then graced him with a small sad smile. "I'm ecstatic that Nick's... that he's not..."

They both filled in the blank. Nick was safe, as safe as he could be, physically.

The two were silent for a few moments, until Sara placed her right thumb over Grissom's lips. His intake of breath was audible in the near silence of his office. "I'm just really glad that you're okay too..." She nodded a few times, as if to solidify her answer, as if to make clear to him what she meant.

Her mouth opened and closed quickly and she dropped her hands, dropped her head. Sara glanced at him once more and then made her way to the door. The sound of her name on his lips stopped her cold. "What?" she whispered, without turning around.

"I can't keep this up much longer."

Sara turned to him for one moment. "I'll be here when you break down, then." Their eyes connected, he smiling, she still searching for a glimmer of her soul amongst all the blue. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow," and she was gone. Gone to visit Nick, or gone home he didn't know.

She was gone for now, but he knew she'd be back tomorrow... and the day after.


End file.
